


Hearts Come Home for Christmas

by ThisisVenereVeritas



Series: Merry Magtok, Everyone [2]
Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Background Relationships, Fluff, Folklok, Hallmark Movie Fic Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28252866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisisVenereVeritas/pseuds/ThisisVenereVeritas
Summary: After learning their folk band won't be able to play the final gig of the year, Toki decides to raise funds for a surprise party for his band and new boyfriend by performing some holiday songs at his favorite cafe.
Relationships: Magnus Hammersmith/Toki Wartooth
Series: Merry Magtok, Everyone [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069586
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Hearts Come Home for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I've never watched a Hallmark film, but I was told to make it as cheesy as possible. 
> 
> This is a semi sequel to another holiday fic I wrote earlier this month, but isn't required to read to enjoy. Have fun, and thank you for reading.

It took nearly an hour for Toki and Murderface’s bus to reach the stop just three blocks from Nathan and Skwisgaar’ apartment. Murderface complained the entire ride over, huffing once they stepped off the bus and into the snowy backdrop and making a point to never cease his whines and blame Pickles for using the car for work instead of considering their immediate needs. Though the air was bitter, Toki managed well enough, tucking his nose into the rolls of his scarf and flipping through the loose change and dollar bills nestled in his pocket. The wind pushed them the entire way to the complex, but through it all Toki carried a small smile, spirits aloft with the wonderful knowledge that, come Saturday, Magnus would have a day off from work, and Toki would finally be able to take him out on a special date.

It was funny. Just a little over a week ago Toki was single, and now, with only eight days away until Christmas, he had himself a boyfriend. Even better, he had a boyfriend and a soon to be successful band, and in just two days, would perform in front of him for their last gig of the year. Toki had everything planned accordingly: he’d buy the tickets later tonight with the remains of his weekly allowance, surprise Magnus the following evening when he was finished with his shift, and on Saturday the two would drive to the club early and Toki would finally get a chance to introduce Magnus to the rest of his band. After their performance, they’d all go out one final time and party before Nathan took Skwisgaar up north to spend time with his family, and Murderface to visit his own. Pickles was a mystery, but by the sounds of it, the man had quite the journey ahead of him until right after New Year’s. Toki couldn’t think of a better way to end his first few months in the states than celebrating with the new family and friends he’d made.

“What do ya’ mean our gig wash canshelled?” Murderface loudly bemoaned just minutes after he and Toki settled into the warm apartment.

Toki cupped his flushed cheeks, rubbing them with his gloved hands while Skwisgaar offered Murderface a sullen shrug, then poured a second cup of freshly brewed coffee. Toki ogled his own cup, sweetened with a helping of cream and sugar, and sighed.

“Several people caught food poisoning, so they shut the place down for the next week,” Nathan answered with a grunt. He sank into his chair, back arching and face folding under a shadow of defeat. “No gig before the holiday this year.”

It was a crushing blow to an otherwise perfect day. Skwisgaar poured some flavored cream into another cup, hurried over and tried swirling the morsel in front of Nathan, only to be dismissed with low grumble.

After a short pause, Murderface audibly sighed. “Welp, sho much fer that,” he concluded, then crossed his arms.

“Oh, no.” Toki pulled his scarf down and stared at his murky reflection, heart sinking at the news and sullen atmosphere.

Skwisgaar rested a hand on top Toki’s chair. “Sometinks wrong, Tokis?”

Though he hadn’t yet told anyone in the band of his burgeoning relationship (save for Pickles who had helped establish it in the first place) Toki found little reason to keep the secret from the band now.

“Was goinks gets tickets with Murderface and invites my boyfriends to see the shows before we splits up for Christmas,” he answered, face speckled in a blush that died as soon as he had fully absorbed the travesty of the situation. He wouldn’t be able to surprise Magnus with a ticket to his show, something he had wanted to do the second the older man pointed out the guitar case and asked how well he could play.

“Sorry to hear ‘bout that,” Nathan replied, picking his head up and catching the forlorn man stirring his cup with a spoon. “Hey. You and Murderface got that apartment.”

“Nots reallies the most romantics place,” Toki confessed, side-eyeing Murderface and contemplating the difficulties of setting anything intimate so close to the holidays.

Everything had to be perfect, and the tiny apartment he shared with Murderface was a far cry from what he imagined as their first major romantic evening before Christmas. Though Toki was grateful for the space and bedroom, the place was messy, carried a permanent man-stench that, while not completely off-putting, didn’t really set the mood Toki was aiming to achieve. More importantly, the walls in the tiny apartment were thin, too thin to play some of the folk songs he had mastered since joining the band. Toki wanted to impress Magnus with his music, watch him perform in front of a stage and fall in love with his band’s music.

Toki cupped his hands together. “I also wanted him to meets you guys before the holidays.”

The three turned at one another. “Well, who is to say we can’t meet the dude?” Nathan inquired first, bringing forth the smallest glint of hope in Toki’s eyes.

“Ja, just cause we ams not playinks doesn’t means we cannot judges your tastes in peoples,” Skwisgaar followed behind, earning a slight smirk from the neighboring Nathan.

“Oh, okays.” Toki sat upright and the sudden change. “I guess we can stills all goes outs and meets and haves a fun nights together.”

The lack of an upcoming gig was disheartening, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t take Magnus out on a nice date with everyone. He’d still get to impress Magnus by introducing him to his amazing adoptive family, and while it was far from the festive night filled with alternative folk music, Magnus would still be in great company and could share his punk background and stories of how he was a one-hit wonder some years back before settling into a more practical role. Nathan could talk about the lyrics to his most recent work in progress, and Pickles would place bets and outdrink everyone, and if Toki was fortunate enough, could snag a few pictures and memories to hold on to as he faced the new year.

It was a beautiful wish, but when it ended, Toki noticed that the smiles across the table had dropped, evaporating under an array of concern.

“What?”

Nathan frowned. “Yeah, about us going out…”

“We spents all our monies on rents and foods,” Skwisgaar muttered. “Not to mentions buyinks gifts for Missus Esksplosions.”

Murderface rested his crossed arms on top his stomach. “Toki, did you forget we yoosh the money from our gigsh to buy boozsh and pashta?”

Toki vaguely remembered the week he was tasked with buying groceries and using the check they earned from the last gig to help buy their meals. He pressed a few fingers up to his lip, carefully doing the math and devising such a way he could make the remains of his monthly income last through January while also putting some aside to take Magnus and the gang out to dinner. He could foresee setting thirty aside, maybe sixty if he was willing to forego making lunch for the next two weeks, but didn’t think it would be nearly enough to cover the expenses of several hungry men.

Sighing aloud, Toki gave one final nod before dropping his head along with the rest. So, no party then, he thought miserably. No concert, or party.

And right as Toki was met with accepting this sad truth, Nathan announced that there would be no rehearsals for the duration of the month, and that the gang would reconvene first thing after New Year’s.

“Till then, we play it smart,” Nathan said, then looked around the silent table now filling with slow, heavy nods of approval. “Save your money, even if you’re working.”

“Rights,” Toki answered dutifully, but still tried to rearrange what spending funds he had to make some party feasible. Even something as simple as a pizza party could suffice, though Toki still needed to account for everyone’s voracious appetite. The longer Toki tried to excuse the expenditure, challenge it against Nathan’s words, and the feeling that erupted in his heart whenever he thought of Magnus talking about his time spent traveling abroad or across the states, the less confident he became and soon found himself back to that sorry state he had been just minutes prior.

Nathan raised head. “Anyone remember to call Pickles and let him know there’s no practice tonight?”

* * *

Toki separated from the gang not much longer afterwards, taking the metro across the snowy city, over to the shopping center now adorned with festive lights and Christmas decorations. Street lamps were bedazzled in red, green and yellow lights, and on top nearly every store was some sort of flashy spectacle, be it a snowman, reindeer, snowflake or Santa. Toki stepped off the bus at that familiar bus stop that he’d always take after rehearsal, and he saw the remodeled brick building that served as a used bookstore and industrial-themed café. He tried to smile when he saw the warm interior now filled with floating Christmas ornaments. A nasty breeze struck his back, prevented it from expanding too far, and by the time Toki huddled his way into the bookstore portion of the store, had to hide the sneaking disappointment under his scarf.

It didn’t take long for the usual employees to pick up that there was something off with Toki’s demeanor. For starters, he was well over an hour early, and when Toki passed the café portion, couldn’t bring himself to enter it and face Magnus with the news that his gig was cancelled. He spent several minutes with Knubbler, helping sort through the small collection of donated romances while the older man ascribed characteristics to the mother’s that purchased them before Abigail took her break and spotted the two headed near the counter. She was about to call Toki over, but a quick look at him was plenty for her to gauge something was wrong. Normally, Toki tried to keep his tribulations hidden from others who weren’t in the band, but was grateful to have her and Knubbler pull him aside to the farthest recess of the store, in children’s literature. Several minutes were spent detailing the issue: Toki wanted to celebrate the holidays with his newfound family and boyfriend, and couldn’t because their gig was cancelled, and because he didn’t have the funds to support a surprise feast for everyone. After he had let it out, pulled his beanie over his head to smother himself with it, Abigail calmed him down, told him her break was up, and that now he had to let Magnus in on the news.

That was hard. He just got Magnus, and he didn’t want to risk losing him over bad news. It took some gentle persuading on her behalf, but she managed to lure Toki back into his usual spot near the window. Minutes later, Magnus appeared, broom and dustbin on hand as he feigned work while sneaking closer to Toki’s table. He awarded him a silent greeting with his thin-lipped smile before noticing the sullen expression coating Toki’s round face.

“Something the matter?”

Toki buried himself in his jacket, wriggling uncomfortably in his chair before finally starting, “Remembers that shows I kept talkin’s about with yous…”

Magnus took the news rather well. Toki had Abigail to thank for the unintended rehearsal. Defeatedly, he informed Magnus that he had wanted to surprise him, show off his skills and his friends, and thought that everything had aligned so perfectly since Magnus would have Saturday off, but now everything was all wrong. He failed to bring up the dinner portion because emotions got the better him. Toki heaved, throat constricting as he struggled to try and formulate the words that and feelings that were eating him. Toki wasn’t sure when Magnus took a seat next to him, only that the man was now rubbing his back, telling him not to worry about taking him to see a show by the end of the year, that it was the thought that counts, that he was more than fine with taking Toki out instead.

It was all much appreciated, but after being fed and driven around by Magnus multiple times, Toki wanted to return the favor.

Toki rubbed his palms against his jeans. “Just wanted to surprise you’s.”

“Yeah,” Magnus said, playfully tugging the tip of Toki’s beanie. “Had a feeling.”

“Really?” Toki turned, causing the heat to slip from him as Magnus continued to mess with worn, loose threads.

Magnus laughed, taking Toki’s beanie into his lap. “The second you mentioned your last gig, you’ve been pushing for me to drop a night shift.”

A few long fingers combed through Toki’s thick, brown hair. Toki blushed. _“Oh._ ”

“If it helps, I’m glad you thought of me,” Magnus said, retracting his hand to recline his head on top of his palms. Toki fixed on his stretched smile, and gave a meager nod. Magnus chuckled again. “There will be plenty of opportunities for you to play for me, man.”

Suddenly, Knubbler swooped by the edge of the café’s border. “Couldn’t help but overhear,” he said, then wiggled a finger at Magnus. “Why not host a little shindig at the café? Maggie, I’ve seen you give artists permission to perform.”

Toki’s eyes shot wide open.

“Not an entire band, though,” Magnus corrected sternly, his eves sharpening at the nickname. “My café isn’t large enough to host that much equipment. Offdensen would kill me for trying.”

Abigail walked by, picked up the broom that Magnus had left leaning on top of a table, and like Magnus before, feigned work. “If that’s the case, then why not have _just_ Toki perform?” she asked after looking around the café and finding no one near the counter.

Toki’s paled. “Huh?”

“That’s not a half bad idea,” Knubbler spoke up, rubbing his chin between a finger and thumb. “Toki plays, raises some funds and gets the band’s name out, and Magnus gets to fawn over his lil’ rock star.”

Magnus huffed, but was pushed aside as Knubbler edged his way closer, resting both his lanky elbows on the crowding table.

Gears at work, Knubbler grinned expectantly at Toki. “When was the gig, babe?”

“Uhm, wells, was supposed to be in two days,” Toki replied nervously.

Magnus tugged the base of his goatee. “Not sure if I can convince Offdensen to a last-minute show.”

Knubbler proudly brought both hands up to his uniform. “You leave that to me, baby. Charlie cannot say no to me! I’ll sell Toki as next year’s greatest thing.”

Magnus twirled a few of his wild curls though his long fingers, then finally gave into a gentle sway of the head as he envisioned the night starting to unfold. “Yeah, that could work,” he muttered, leaning on top of an elbow as he looked over his shoulder and mentioned something about rearranging some chairs. Abigail went on about using the tip jar as revenue for Toki, and Knubbler jumped over the border, clasped his hands over Toki’s hardening shoulder and said he could try making a few posters to plaster across the center to garner a decent sized audience.

Magnus hummed a low note, satisfied at the idea. He placed an elbow on the table, inked arm leaning as he edged closer to Toki. “What do you think?” he asked, and his smile melted the fears that had arisen the second Toki understood he was being asked to perform alone. Magnus’ promising smile, warm complexion and amber glow somehow made Toki forget how terrified he could be when asked to go on stage, and when Magnus’ hand finally reached him, whatever doubt that weighed Toki down vanished into feathery bliss.

“Oh, _wowee_.” Blushing, Toki dropped his guard to take Magnus hand in his and feel their shared warmth supply him with the confidence to agree to their plan. “Sure. I cans play for you ats the café.”

“Alrighty,” Knubbler said, pulling away from the crowded table to return to the bookstore half of the store. “I’ll hit up the boss man. See what I can work up. Don’t worry, Toki, you just get yourself an acoustic and promise to cover some politically correct holiday jingle and we’re good.”

“Okays, you gots it,” Toki said, bobbing his head in tandem with Knubbler’s bouncy steps.

A finger prodded his shoulder. When Toki turned, he saw Abigail headed to the counter, and Magnus ready to leave his seat to return to work.

Without looking away, Magnus pointed a thumb to the wall behind him, at a black acoustic guitar hanging from the wall. “You need an acoustic, buddy?” he asked, the ends of mouth twitching excitedly. “I mean, I know you got the electric, but…”

And just like that, Toki had a gig to rehearse.

* * *

Luckily for Toki, Pickles also owned an acoustic guitar. The second he reached their drummer, begged for him to help teach him some of the lines Nathan sang for their more popular songs, as well as a few American holiday tunes. Though he’d been playing in the band for some time now, Toki only had bothered memorizing his parts, a few lines from Skwisgaar’s, but hardly any lyrics belonging to Nathan. It took a lot of convincing, and eventually Toki had no choice but to spill the beans and let Pickles in on the plan. Only after that, did Pickles concede and tell Toki to be prepared for the “practice from hell” tomorrow afternoon.

With just a day to spare, Toki made a point to leave work the second his shift was done, not bothering to change out of his buttoned-up shirt, and met Pickles waiting for him in the parking lot. As Pickles proved, it was the practice from hell. Much like Nathan, Pickles was a stickler for perfection, and like Skwisgaar, could easily pinpoint each mess up performed by Toki. Pickles wasn’t nearly as rough or critical, but it didn’t change the fact that he made Toki play the same three songs repeatedly, without stopping, just to inform Toki where he needed to improve and how, before making him play yet again. As far as teaching went, though, Toki did manage to get most of the lines to the songs memorized, save for the transitions from English to Swedish. After nearly four hours of nonstop playing, Toki could perform the songs at an impressive enough level with just his voice and the acoustic guitar, though it was becoming apparent by his occasional flub that he would need to rely on sheet music or physical copies of the lyrics to get him through the night.

“But that won’t be a problem,” Pickles said as they headed towards his car late into the night. “Cause you’ll have Christmas sahngs to distract ‘em.”

Toki had thought it was weird that Pickles only taught him three of their hits to memorize, but after several hours of trying to sing and play at the same time, forgot to bring up the issue. He stowed Magnus’ guitar into the backseat, remembered Knubbler mentioning something about holiday jingles, and assumed this was what Pickles meant.

“Okays,” he said aloud, then tried to pull one of the names of the songs he had heard on the radio. “Likes…them jingly bells?”

“Well, maybe not that,” Pickles replied, dropping his stare to the old acoustic lying beside his own. “For that ol’ beauty…I’d say maybe somethin’ like “Silent Night,” or maybe a slow cover of “Carol of the Bells,” or…Toki?”

Toki pulled at his gloves. “Don’ts know them songs, Pickle.”

“What do you mean you don’t know the songs?” Pickles asked, scratching the back of his head at Toki’s expanding frown. “The heck did you listen to back in Norway?”

Not much, Toki wanted to say, but refrained. He wasn’t quite ready to share that side of his past. Pickles and the others had done an excellent job providing him a place to stay, food and entertainment, and a strong sense of self-worth, but with so much on his mind now, Toki didn’t want to bring up something so dark and desolate this close to the holidays. And why bother talking about something so sad when he only had good things to look forward to, like his Christmas party and Magnus?

“I, uhh, know some hymns,” Toki stated, tongue fumbling over his lips as his brain quickly reached for Norwegian verses detailing the end of harvest, winter solstice, or the incoming end times.

“Okay.” Pickles slammed the back door and made his way to the front. “And are they festive?”

“Uhm. My favorites one ams about thems original sins and why sometimes life ams not always–”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna fly with the audience.” Pickles shook his head at Toki. “Normally I’m against practicin’ until the final hour, but…”

Toki leaned on top of the car door. “But what, Pickle?”

“I cannot believe dis’ is happenin’, but I gotta teach you some basic Christmas songs,” he answered with an exasperated sigh. “You gotta spend the night, dood.”

“Spends the nights?”

Were this any other night, such news would have been a cause for celebration. Toki had only slept over at Nathan and Skwisgaar’s after immediately joining the band, and since then, had roosted with Murderface. But tonight? It was well past night, and Toki wanted to see Magnus through the rest of his shift, inform him of all the progress he made, and promise him he’d do such an amazing job playing his ebony guitart filled with rich, full-sounding notes.

He tried explaining his desire to Pickles, hoping it would suffice over a night of additional practice and memorization.

“You can’t go up there with just three songs.” Pickles tugged at his brow piercing, tongue caught between his teeth as he watched Toki sink into the passenger seat. “Sorry, dood, but the songs I taught ya’ ain’t that long, and ten minutes of performing on stage won’t rack up a huge paycheck.”

“Oh.”

Toki couldn’t argue with that reasoning. The whole point of the concert was to earn enough money to buy his friends and Magnus a meal, and ten minutes was barely time for four orders of drinks and snacks. Even with his slow playing, it wasn’t enough time to earn the amount of money he needed. With a complacent sigh, Toki agreed to Pickles’ terms. Though he wanted nothing more than to chat with Magnus, Abigail and Knubbler, Toki hoped a phone call would suffice, along with that hopeful promise that he'd impress Magnus with the few songs he memorized through the day. Still, as they passed the shopping center, Toki made a small request for Pickles to drive in, pass the combined store, and come to a stop so that he could glimpse inwards and wish Magnus a nice night from afar.

Toki peered through the window, saw Abigail and Magnus behind the counter, each attending to their own tasks. With a squint of his eyes, he saw something in front of the store’s windows: pink sheets of paper with something scribbled over them. A funny feeling settled in his stomach, and when Toki pressed his face against the window, was sure the shapes he saw on the poster formed his name.

Toki unlocked the car door. “One seconds!” he shouted, before jumping out of the car to hurry over and get a better view.

He heard Pickles swear behind him, but kept going onwards, racing and snatching up one of the posters that lined the front window by the doors on the bookstore half of the store. Panting, Toki expelled plumes of hot air as he read his name scrawled at the top of the poster, followed by a bunch of English words that, judging by their arrangement, gave the time and location of his upcoming performance. Toki swallowed, lifted his head and looked around the center. Though it was dark, he was sure he could see the blurred shape of neon pink plastered on the neighboring pet store, and another by the arts and crafts emporium. Knubbler had said he’d make Toki out as next year’s big thing, but wasn’t prepared for an actual crowd to show. Maybe an audience of ten, twenty at max. If everyone was putting up posters though, then Toki could very well expect a crowd of thirty or more.

Anxiety coursed through his shivering form, refilling his exhausted core with a new desire for practice. He stared up, through the window, and saw Abigail cleaning some of the distant tables, while Magnus began picking up and rearranging chairs. Everyone was doing their best to make sure Toki could perform for his band, and for Magnus. The least he could do was offer them a good show.

Toki returned to Pickles’ car, poster in hand. He silently boarded the vehicle as Pickles slapped his hands against the wheel, irritated.

“Dood, what was that?”

“Needs to know more songs,” Toki said as he worked the harness of his safety belt. He looked up at Pickles with large, hopeful eyes. “Pickle, cans you teachers me at least ten songs?”

One of Pickles’ hands slipped off the steering wheel. His brows lifted, shocked at what he heard. “Yer gonna try learnin’ ten songs by tomorrow?”

“No, ams going to master thems,” Toki said, self-assured. He crumbled the poster in his hands, and with it, crushed whatever remaining want for sleep and goodbye kisses he carried. No, he’d make up for it with a congratulatory kiss, and hive fives from everyone after a successful and perfect performance. “ _All_ of thems.”

* * *

Toki spent the rest of his night practicing with Pickles. Rather than attempt to master all the band’s songs, Pickles decided that they’d try for an additional three songs, and make the final four Christmas related. A hearty dinner and encouraging words helped Toki get through two shorter, but popular songs that Pickles selected. The third song, one of their most popular, was mostly sung in Swedish. Toki had no idea how Nathan, whose voice was so naturally low and rough, managed to weave and spin the language into something fluid and smooth. Whenever he tried singing the main chorus, flubbed and stuttered over unknown terms, or would read a word and misinterpret it as Norwegian, ruining the entire message. As it neared one in the morning, Pickles traded Magnus guitar for a blanket and pillow, and offered Toki the couch for the night, promising him he’d teach him four Christmas songs later in the morning.

Toki spent the rest of his night tending to his red, aching fingertips, and soothing his tired throat with water from the tap. He wasn’t sure when he managed to fall asleep, only woke up to Pickles offering him a large plate of cheap sausages and toast for breakfast.

The rest of the day was spent with Pickle singing aloud holiday songs, playing his acoustic slowly to help teach Toki the chords he’d need to know to lazily pass off mastery of any holiday tune. Pickles made him play the six songs he practiced last night, keeping a steady expression as they played along together. Pickles never said a word, and just kept humming the tunes and listening to Toki pause at certain words, skip Swedish or replace it with something Norwegian in its stead. Toki was sure Pickles was doing it out of politeness, but prayed he’d somehow learn everything by the time night arrived.

By this point, Toki was fatigued, tired of holding Magnus’ large guitar, and only wanted to spend the rest of his day on the couch, but as it drew closer towards lunch, he realized he forgot to give Magnus a goodnight call. After packing their things, Toki called Magnus shortly to let him know he’d arrive soon. Hearing Magnus say his name on the line, telling Toki he looked forward to seeing him, and that he’d have something sweet waiting for him at his table, quelled some of the nerves starting to tremble at the impending performance. The bottom of his throat was sore from singing, but Toki cleared it up and wished Magnus a good day before hanging up and asking Pickles if they could try practicing the chords a few more times.

With Pickles in “the know,” Toki had no problem requesting that he let the others meet him at the shopping center, right after his big performance. There were a few eateries in the shopping center, Toki was sure he could ask Magnus to point out a nice place for them to gather once he was finished playing. Pickles chuckled on his way to the car, shaking his head at the request, but agreed that he’d formulate an excuse and get the guys to the center, right after the gig. Toki thanked Pickles for all this help, and after reaching Toki’s apartment, collected several pages of hastily written Christmas songs and sheet music, and left the car.

The rest of the day was spent practicing in silence. Throat still tired, Toki carefully strummed Magnus’ guitar through the afternoon, leaving the apartment once the sun began to set, and arrived at the used bookstore a half-hour later.

Most of the café was rearranged, with chairs and tables bunched together near the windows. Magnus was still in his jacket, curly hair down and flowing as he hurriedly guided Toki through the space, pointing out all the changes made to better fit the acoustics of the café portion of the store. Toki halted in front of his small stage. The raised platform was less than half the size of what Toki was used performing on, though he usually had the rest of his gang applying alongside him.

“What do you think?” Magnus asked after he caught Toki placing the acoustic by the stool. His hand wrapped around Toki’s side, and the contact eased Toki to drop his shoulders, look up and smile at him for being so thoughtful to set up the stage.

Above, festive ornaments of silver and gold hung, and when Magnus played with the lights, saw lights sparkle at the foot of the platform. Toki jumped on stage, surveyed the surrounding café, and saw Magnus looking up at him, and envisioned himself playing in front of a decent sized audience.

Toki gave the man a thumbs-up. “Ams perfect.”

“That’s what I want to hear.” Magnus said, flicking the lights to return and guide Toki near the window. From the counter, Abigail covered a smirk while Magnus offered Toki a small cup of something she had made while the two toured the rearranged café. “You eat yet?” Magnus asked as Toki settled into his seat. “I promised Charles I’d man the station while you play, but we still have time before your show. We don’t have to settle for coffee. There’s a few nice places around here.”

With the hanging decorations, standing microphone, and wall clock indicating the time, Toki was too excited to eat. He refused to offer, but instead suggested that Magnus snack on something light in preparation, though for what, he didn’t say.

A crowd began to gather around seven. Toki didn’t notice the number of occupied seats, people huddled together with cups of peppermint mocha and spiced nog, never leaving their seats but instead had their eyes glued to Abigail applying paper snowflakes across the wall behind the stage. Toki finally picked up on the increased noise, the bookstore’s manager walking up to Magnus and informing him he needed to do a better job keeping the “rowdy crowds” away from the bookstore half. Toki looked around and saw groups gathering near the café side of the storefront, and Abigail raising the tip jar high to announce that all proceeds would be going to a great cause. Knubbler yanked him from the table, led him to the back of the café before leaving and returning with Magnus’ guitar.

“Get ready,” Knubbler said, flashing a bright, supportive grin in his direction. “The show’s about to start. I’ll get the light all situated, that way when you roll out, ol’ Mags won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”

Toki fastened the strap. From outside the small storage space, he could hear the sounds of people talking, and Magnus shouting for someone to stay away from the amps and wires. A knot built in his stomach, and right when Abigail peeked through the doorway to let Toki know they were ready for him, he jumped.

“You okay?” Abigail asked while Toki tripped forward, hands nervously clenching the guitar’s neck.

“Y-yeps,” he answered, voice hitching up to a mild gasp when he turned the corner and saw the dimmed lighting, and heard the voices of people forming a long line for drinks.

When he exited the hall, Magnus was there by the counter. He had both sleeves rolled up, hair fixed and was busy taking orders, but still managed to offer the quickest glimpse and nod the second Toki coughed a noise. Abigail took his place behind the counter, giving Magnus just enough time to walk over, take Toki by the hand and whisper a rushed “good luck, man” before guiding him through the clutter and noise, towards the stage.

The remaining lights dimmed, save for the ones above the raised platform. A swarm of applause and muffled cheers arose as Toki took his seat upon a stool, head raised high and eyes at a squint to make out the crowd. Not counting the line, there were easily over thirty people huddled in the café, and if the sounds on Toki’s left side were any indication, had more peering from the bookstore as well.

The clapping died down. Toki reached for the microphone, and when he did, the audience went silent.

“Uhm, hellos,” Toki muttered into the microphone. He leaned forward, and the smooth body of the guitar began to slide off his legs. He hurriedly reached to fix it back into place. A few people chuckled. Another whistled. Toki swallowed. “Ams going…to be playinks…for you tonights.”

Another applause, though reduced in sound. From within, Pickles’ voice listed the order of songs Toki would play, starting with a simple holiday song. Toki leered at the instrument’s neck, fingers searching for the notes while the mind fumbled for the voice and lyrics he spent all morning practicing.

_God rest ye merry gentlemen… have yourself a merry little Christmas?_

“Uhm…” Toki pressed the guitar close to his chest, eyes setting on the eerily silent audience while fingers continued to locate the right fret for whatever strange combinations of lyrics that played in his mind. Throat turned to sandpaper as he watched dozens of eyes set upon him. What was the title of the song again, he wondered. Pickles said that “Silent Night” should go near the end, and “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” was supposed to be second, and, and, what was the name of the other two songs he was supposed to sing?

Someone started to whisper. A few teens near the window jeered at one another and pointed at Toki. His eyes darted back to the guitar, and he wondered if he should just start with one of the band’s songs, even if it wasn’t so festive. Oh, but which song was he going to start off with, again? Another whistle, and this time a few snickers followed. Toki’s hand tripped over strings. His throat tightened. Someone giggled.

His eyes darted to the windows, the tables and corners, meeting judgmental stares and smiles attacking his dwindling confidence. He was sure he saw Knubbler amongst the haze, the panicked heat that arose and spread across his face, as well as the bookstore manager shaking his head, clearly disappointed in the lackluster performance. Toki saw the nearby snack display, knew Magnus was watching, and dropped his head in shame.

“You can do it Toki!”

Shaken, Toki raised his head and saw Abigail near the coffee maker, emerald eyes beaming at him.

“Yeah, show ‘em what ya’ got, Toki!”

His shoulders arose at the familiar sound coming from his left. Hesitantly, Toki turned, and by the café’s border, saw Pickles, Nathan and Skwisgaar huddled together, and Murderface leaning against the science fiction novels. Jaw sinking, his eyes filled with a mild sting when Nathan met his frozen, terrified stare with a proud smirk, Murderface with a short but affirming nod.

Skwisgaar raised up a fist. “Woo, go Tokis.”

“I believe in you, Toki.”

 _Magnus._ Toki looked to the counter, saw Magnus leaning forwards, his form practically glowing under the dim lights.

“You can do it, buddy,” he said, grinning and raising an inked arm and offering a gentle wave.

Lips trembling, Toki supplied a nod in his direction, then returned to face the crowds. He tried placing his vibrating hands over the strings. He shut his eyes. With a deep exhale, Toki calmed himself down, and searched for something meaningful. No Christmas songs arose from memory, but Toki rediscovered old, melancholic verses hidden away, from winter’s long ago. He exhaled through his nose, letting the old songs fill his anxious soul with notes, melody and a voice.

He opened his eyes. “This ams a song I used to sings, back when Toki was still ins Norways.” Toki nestled comfortably on his stool, readjusting the guitar and pulling forth an inner strength he wasn’t aware he had. He smiled at the crowd. “I hopes you all likes it.”

The crowds grew silent as Toki’s voice filled the room, slow, soft and carrying with it years of winters spent alone. Rich strums coincided with cold lyrics. Full notes echoed throughout the café, followed by a whisper of words that, while perplexing and foreign, carried a solemn weight that affected anyone listening. Eyes continued to rest on Toki, no longer possessing that imposing gaze, but turned softer and more enthralled as Toki weaved delicate hymns and verses that prayed for a more fortunate year.

Toki sang his fears away, lidded eyes shifting between fingers that instinctively knew what notes served best to get his message across, and the lights that hung above, burning him and stirring a more conscious strength to creep its way into his voice. From the side, Nathan muttered about including some Norwegian folk into the band’s repertoire, earning a mild huff from Skwisgaar, who, despite his usual temperament, did admit that Toki wasn’t a half-bad singer. Pickles wore a silly grin, and Murderface nudged some stranger standing beside him to let them know it was his friend and roomie that was currently performing on stage. The song reached its crescendo, and across from the stage, Knubbler humped an elbow into Charles, repeatedly telling him he knew talent when he saw it, and Toki, while shy, possessed something special. Toki returned to the main chorus, voice vanishing to a near whisper. Abigail quickly took as many orders as she could on her own, giving Magnus the chance to try and mouth the unknown words, silently singing along as he watched and listened to Toki’s song come to an end. He was the first to bring his hands up and offer his praise, followed by Abigail and the rest, with members of Toki’s band cheering the loudest. Toki broke into a humble, but pleased grin.

Face crimson from the positive validation, Toki very politely asked everyone to simmer down.

“Uhm this ams my first time spendinks Christmas in Americas,” Toki said, bringing the guitar to his chest in preparation, but this time only had people going “aww” and cheering for him. He pulled away from the mic to view Magnus by the counter, struggling to keep his attention split between Toki and the drinks he was charged with making. Toki waited until Magnus finished topping a drink with sprinkles, catching his eyes with his own festive blush. Staring at Magnus, he asked, “Don’ts know all them Christmas songs very wells, but maybes you will helps Toki and sings along?”

* * *

The rest of the concert proceeded without any issue. After admitting he barely knew any Christmas songs by heart, the audience was more than willing to fill the gaps and sing along with Toki, often going over his own voice with their enthusiastic participation. Toki also managed to get a few of the band’s songs in between a few carols, though he ended up spending most of his night either performing sing-a-longs or humming something soft and Norwegian to his audience.

After several grueling songs, Toki gave his bow, and exited the stage. People clapped, cheered his name and wished him a merry Christmas. As happy as he was, nothing could stop him from turning a corner and racing behind the counter to hide and collapse under the cool air of the storage room.

Charles closed the stores shortly after Knubbler concluded the performance, waving happily at the crowds and thanking them for a wonderful night. Magnus found Toki lying on the floor, guitar resting by his side. He sat next to him, not speaking until the drones of heaving air fell into a peaceful rhythm, then announced that Toki’s performance had been nothing short of outstanding. He dropped to his side, head resting on top of his arm, and asked if Toki would consider leaving the storage at some point, and meet his newfound fans before the store closed. With abundant glee, Toki rose, and after a long embrace, the two left the café, hand in hand.

His entire band stood by the entrance, all beaming with pride.

“You did good, Toki,” Nathan declared the second Toki and Magnus exited the front doors.

Skwisgaar skeeted by the group to slap a hand behind Toki’s back. “Whats do you’s means? Tokis ams spectaculators!”

“Sawrry for surprisin’ you.” Pickles stepped forward, hands tucked into his jacket. “Figured if ya’ were goin’ to raise the money, leas’ I could do was get some moral support, ‘case no one showed.”

Toki couldn’t begin to thank Pickles for the surprise. He was sure that, without their moral support, he might not have found the courage to play on his own. Stepping away from Magnus, Toki offered his arms to the band. Eyes rolling, Murderface was the first to give Toki a hug, followed by Pickles, then the remaining Skwisgaar and Nathan. Toki thanked everyone for showing up, cheering him and staying all the way through. He wiped some tears as everyone parted, smiling and sniffling bitter cold air.

“Good job wish your performansch, Toki,” Murderface said, patting the man on the back, only to glance at Magnus and provide him a silent, unreadable glance.

Toki picked up on the stares now lingering towards Magnus behind him, he laughed a plume of steam. “Oh, uhms, rights!” He grabbed Magnus by the arm and pulled him close, until his rosy cheeks pressed into the man’s layered shoulder. “Guys, this ams Magnus.”

Magnus gave a shy wave.

Skwisgaar took Magnus’ hand. “This ams the coffee cups guy?”

“Yeps,” Toki said, grinning wide as Magnus and Skwisgaar shook hands. “And, Magnus, this ams my band.”

Nathan was next to give the man his usual testing stare before breaking into a sly smirk. Pickles quickly jumped on Magnus, jesting at the hilarity of his terrible attempt to romance someone with unmarked cups of coffee, while Murderface kept it short and cordial, and threatened Magnus to watch himself and not hurt poor little Toki’s heart.

As every acquainted themselves with the latest addition to their posse, the door behind swung open, and Knubbler and Abigail approached the group, along with the bookstore’s owner.

“There’s my future rock star,” Knubbler called, then stepped aside to let Abigail hand Toki a roll of bills. “Your earnings.”

“Good work, Toki.” Abigail congratulated, then returned to Knubbler with a shiver. She brought her gloved hands into her face.

Toki unfurled the roll, eyes immediately picking up on the twenty with a cutesy little smiley replacing the face of the president, another bill with a fancy signature, and finally one with a messy heart scrawled on the edge. Between the three larger bills, and the several dozen following them, Toki knew he had plenty to afford a decent meal for the band. “Oh, wowee,” he said, tearing up a little. He stuck his arms out, the ends of the bills dancing with the chilled winds. “Now I cans takes you all outs for a parties.”

Murderface’s jaw dropped. “Dude, aweshome! You rock, Toki!”

“Hells yeah.” Skwisgaar joined with a delighted boon.

“Excuse me.”

Everyone turned. The bookstore owner, the one Knubbler and Magnus called Charles, introduced himself to the band, then pulled a card from within the inner pockets of his jacket.

“I heard some of your band’s songs. I’m, ah, rather intrigued,” Charles said, then offered his car out to the center of the group. Nathan took the card, raising it up to his eye level. “If you, ah, don’t mind. I’d like to hear you play. Together, I mean. As a group.”

Toki edged close as Charles discussed his plans, but felt a finger prod his back. He turned around, saw Magnus huddled into his dark jacket. He beckoned Toki closer with the same finger, silently asking him to step away from the band for just a second. Toki followed, separating from the group while Nathan and Pickles started shaking hands with Charles, meeting Magnus by a large pot filled to the brim with sleeping succulents.

“You put on a heck of a show,” Magnus said, pulling the younger man into a tight embrace. Hot, visible air splashed over Toki’s face, lining it with a brighter shade of pink. “Gotta say, I’m glad I got to see you perform before the year’s end.”

“Thanks!” Toki pressed his chest against Magnus’, face brimming with adulation. A hand weaved through his thick locks, combing upwards until they rested on Toki’s cheek. He stared up at Magnus, feeling that natural desire for closeness fill and overflow in his heart. He swayed forward, landing on his tip-toes, raised his head up and, with eyes setting to a close, brought his lips to meet Magnus’. The kiss tasted of spices, rich undertones of coffee that made Toki forget of the frosty winds and light snowfall. Magnus’ hand brushed over his face, rhinestone ring causing a slight shiver, but then followed by his silken palm that treated any shudder with a heated tickle. Toki parted, eyes fluttering to see Magnus rosy faced and grinning.

“Hey, Toki. C’mon!” Nathan called.

The two looked over and saw the four heading towards their cars. Toki waved at the guys, face flushed with minor embarrassment.

Magnus squeezed Toki’s hand. “You go have fun. Treat your friends and family.”

Toki gasped. “What ams you talkinks abouts?” he asked, shaking his head at the older man. He freed his hand to rest both on top of Magnus’ chest. “You ams my friend. My _boyfriends_.”

Through the layers, he could feel Magnus’ heart rate pick up. Feeling the racing heart under his hands, Toki dropped his head, hiding away a bashful smile and smothering a giggle at Magnus’ overly-formal politeness. He’d have to do something about that, one day.

Huddled close, his lips brushed over a few of the bristles that lined Magnus’ handsome face. “I wanted to celebrates with you’s,” he murmured, feeling the line underneath his lips begin to shift into a promising smile. “Comes with me, please. Let’s me buy you dinners.”

A hand slammed down on top of a car’s hood.

“Alright ya two,” Pickles yelled out, then proceeded to hit the top of his car a few more times. “Plenty of time to be gross when we get to the restaurant!”

“Yeah, hurries up, you’s two,” Skwisgaar parroted before taking the passenger seat in Nathan’s truck.

With the invitation sent, Magnus’s shoulder dropped. Amused, he chuckled at the foursome rudely calling him and Toki forward. “Alright,” he said, and shut his eyes when Toki jumped up to peck his cheek, “But we’re taking my car.”

“Alrights!”

They waved goodbye to Knubbler and Abigail, then rushed to the car. As the snow continued to fall, Magnus led Toki through the gathering snow. They signaled to the others to start off without them, giving Toki time to admit to Magnus how nervous he was when he got on stage, and more time for Magnus to unlock his car door and surprise Toki with a gift lying within. Snowflakes floated over the gentle breeze, coating the two as they engaged in one final embrace. It picked up, howling something nasty and cold that brought on shiver, and echoing the distant wails and reminders of Christmas’ spent alone. Pressed against Magnus, Toki noticed the lonesome nostalgia coating the night. He smiled into the man’s neck, rubbing his frosty cheeks and murmuring to Magnus how happy he was that he finally had a Christmas to share with friends and family, sinking and enjoying the skipped beat of the man’s heart against his supple lips.


End file.
